


In Your Dreams

by Starless_Void



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Blackmail, Cock Worship, Good Peter Hale, M/M, PWP, Peter Hale Deserves Nice Things, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sexual Fantasy, Stiles Stilinski is a Nice Thing, blowjob, kinda dubious consent but not really, peter is good, sleeping, this is too short to have this many tags lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:40:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27455884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starless_Void/pseuds/Starless_Void
Summary: Peter gets set upon by a rogue hunter and goes to Stiles for help, and one thing leads to another until Peter finds himself with a lap full of sleeping Stiles, and if this isnt a prime blackmail photo waiting to happen then what is?Literally just smut. Gets really cute and fluffy at the end. I am such a sucker for adoring Peter oh my LORDDubious consent explained in the end notes if you are worried about that
Relationships: Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 12
Kudos: 381





	In Your Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> Hope y'all enjoyed! I literally wrote this last night and this morning to help me work through some anxiety. Working on some bigger stories with Teen Wolf, a Sterek one where Stiles gets possessed by a nice kitsune instead of a nogistune, and it gives him powers kinda like sailor moon and he fights evil, and a Steter one where I do some world building around Celtic mythology and Stiles is a Tuatha De Danann- so look forward to those lmao. Hope everyone is doing well, and if anyone has any suggestions or ideas of what they want to see in a story, leave a comment! They really make my day!

Peter watches with apt fascination as Stiles twitches and fidgets even while asleep. His little nose crinkles in apparent displeasure, whether from some dream or real life discomfort Peter doesn’t know, and lets out a little grumble that sounds suspiciously wolf-like.

It made him happy to see that his gamble to go to Stiles when he nearly got gutted by that rogue hunter paid off. The boy groaned and whined about how Peter ruined his evening and was getting blood all over his cheap sheets, but went about fixing him up to the best of his ability, which, after the past couple years living in Beacon Hills, Stiles can say that he isn’t too shabby at patching up wounds. 

The pain from burning out the wolfsbane must have led Peter to black out, the wolf surmised, unable to remember falling asleep. He is propped up against the sturdy headboard, one of those ridiculous neck travel pillows wrapped around his shoulders, which he wastes no time ripping off and flinging across the room. Doubtless, the boy already had blackmail photos of him though.

Stiles himself is sprawled out between Peters legs, head resting on one of his thighs. Luckily, he is facing away from Peters groin, the wolf doesn’t know how he would feel if he woke up to Stiles breathing on his dick. 

Scanning the room, Peter spots his cell phone on the bedside table, just out of his reach. He looks between Stiles sleep-slack face and the piece of technology and weighs the merits of keeping Stiles asleep while he retrieves it. He could just toss the boy to the floor and walk away, given that his wounds no longer throb with poison and the worst of his injuries is now a raised scar along his left pec that will be gone in a few hours anyway.

But if he had a picture of Stiles, asleep with his head on Peters lap, spread out between Peters thighs like he belonged there… His dick throbs in arousal as he works himself up, and he makes sure to carefully shift his weight as he leans over to grab his phone. 

Just as his hand wraps around it, Stiles lets out an absolutely adorable little whine, and flips his body over to rest on his other side, leaving his face inches away from Peters half hard cock tenting his briefs. Peter holds his breath, staying as still as possible while Stiles settles back down, one of his hands now resting on Peters thigh, fingers making little grabby motions almost like a kneading cat. 

When a couple tense minutes pass and Stiles heartrate drops back to what it was before, Peter settles back into his original position, taking twice as long to settle, as not to jostle the young man. 

Peter opens his phone, sending a quick text to Derek with a description of the hunter and his vehicle and telling him that Stiles is patching him up, and it is going to take a while. A blatant lie, given that he is fine and can leave whenever he wants, but the last thing Peter needs is his nephew to come through the boys window and see both of them in such a compromising position. 

He turns off the vibrate of his phone just in time for the notification of Derek’s response, letting him know that he will pass along the info to Scott and his merry band of misfits and to lay low with the human while they take care of it. Some might have been offended at the blatant way Derek was telling him to stay out of it, but Peter saw it as passing off his problem to someone else, and let out a pleased hum as he switched to the camera app.

Stiles looked just as angelic and relaxed in sleep through the screen of his phone, and Peter takes a few photos right off the bat, excited to have such juicy blackmail material. If he plays his cards right, Peter can lord this over him for months, maybe even years. 

Unfortunately, the camera sound was left on, and the annoying little ‘click’ of his camera taking a photo echoes deafeningly in the quiet space, causing Stiles to scrunch up his nose in sleepy displeasure and burrow his head that much closer to Peter’s cock. 

The wolf works to keep his breathing steady as Stiles mouth parts a little, puffing hot, damp breaths over his now more than noticeable bulge in his underwear. Claws cut into his palms a bit as Peter struggles to even out his breathing and keep his leg muscles relaxed, the light, teasing stimulation to his sensitive length causing him to harden fully within the confines of the restrictive fabric. 

The situation is fast rolling away from Peters control, and if Stiles wakes up to a face full of Peters hard dick, there will be a whole lot of problems, most of which Peter can see being resolved by his death; again. 

Phone forgotten next to him on the bed, Peter rests his weight on his hands next to him, slowly trying to shift to the side, moving in micro distances as not to wake the boy from his impromptu nap on Peters’ lap. How did he even fall asleep there on accident? 

Long arms reach up to wrap around Peters leg in protest to his glacial slide away from him, and Peter lets out a subvocal whine as Stiles brushes the tip of his nose along the heated length of his erection, and when he licks his lips in his sleep, the tip of his tongue glances along the fabric stretched taut over his now throbbing cock, the molten flash of wet heat there and gone in a painfully pleasurable instant that had a bead of precome staining his briefs where the flushed head of his cock was caught.

Ok, Peter admits that this is bad. He needs to get out of this situation, he doesn’t even know if Stiles likes men, and Peter may be a former crazy murderer, but he is no rapist, and even though he would love to have Stiles nuzzle his cock while he slept, they need to have a long conversation about boundaries and comfort levels before they get anywhere near that point. 

Not that they ever would, what would Stiles even see in someone as broken as him? Peter shakes the self-deprecating thoughts out of his head and works harder to disentangle himself from the human octopus who seemed intent on making Peter suffer his embrace. 

“Hnng,” Stiles growls as Peter manages to loosen the boys hold on his muscled thigh, tongue darting out to lick his lips again, though this time, Peter is far enough away that it doesn’t touch him. “Peter…” 

Against his will, every muscle in Peters body tenses, the wolf straining in place at the way Stiles moans his name into the crease where his leg meets his body. “Stiles…?” Peter whispers, fear coursing through him at the way those big brown eyes blink wearily up at him before gaining a bit of clarity to their compromising position. 

Closing his eyes in dread, Peter can’t even bring himself to look at him as the boy takes stock of his proximity to Peters dick, now half hard due to his panic and stress, but still very much noticeable. 

Because he has his eyes closed, Peter misses the way Stiles teeth catch on his bottom lip when he nearly goes cross eyed looking at the sizable bulge right in front of his face, but luckily for him, his wolf nose catches the sharp spike of want that sweetens the air around them, and snaps his eyes open to watch the younger man stare at Peters lap like he was just handed a million dollars. 

“Hmm, this for me?” Stiles flashes a cheeky grin up at the stunned wolf, trying to mask his nerves with his patent sarcasm. Peter goes to say something, probably to warn him against getting involved with him in such a way, but his words turn to ash in his mouth as Stiles asks, “Can I?” Imploring him with those bright honey colored eyes and a few lash flutters thrown in for extra measure.

The wolf answers before the man even registers the question, flashing supernaturally blue eyes and leaning back on his elbows, smirking down at the beautiful little thing between his legs, the sight of the boy in such a submissive posture bringing him back to full mast in seconds. 

Never one to waste an opportunity, Stiles dives in, mushing his face against the crease of his leg again, inhaling a big whiff of his concentrated scent, hips twitching a little against the mattress at his first lucid experience of musk and pine, twirled together with a little spice that is pure Peter. 

Large hands sweep up from their position on his thighs to play with the edges of his underwear, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Lips flutter over his clothed dick, and Peter revels in the short, tight sniffs that Stiles takes through his nose, as if he can’t get enough of Peters scent, which he can probably barely smell through his human nose anyway. 

Like a bloodhound, yes Peter is making a dog joke, he’s a werewolf he has the right to do that, Stiles homes in to the damp spot over the head of his cock, where his heady precome stains the fabric in an ever growing radius. This boy really would make one hell of a wolf, Peter thinks to himself before Stiles whips out his tongue and laves the stain on his briefs, his hot, wet tongue moistening the fabric as he licks at the salty liquid like a popsicle. 

Stiles has the audacity to moan at the influx of pre that seeps through the fabric at his action, wrapping his plush lips around him and starting a light rhythm of suctions, all through the damned fabric of his briefs, which Peter doesn’t normally wear anyway, a fact that makes Peter grumble to himself as he shifts his weight on to one arm, reaching out with the other to tangle his fingers into Stiles short hair, wrenching the boy off him with more force than strictly nessciary.

Given how Stiles moaned unabashedly and bared his neck, he didn’t mind the rough treatment. Peter grins and stores that little tidbit away for a later date, before reaching down and shredding the offending fabric with his claws, tossing the offending item away as his thick, heavy cock slaps against his belly, leaving himself bare for the hungry man in front of him. 

Stiles stares at his cock like it’s the answer to his prayers, and wastes no time licking up the wetness that started to drip down his length when Stiles was pulled away. No longer holding him back, Peter settles back on his arms, content to watch Stiles worship his cock. 

The boy goes right to business, warm, wet, plush lips leaving open mouthed kisses up and down the length, his devious little tongue peeking out from time to time to curl around as much of him as possible, keeping him on his toes, so to speak. He isn’t the most practiced at this, but he keeps his teeth out of it and brings so much enthusiasm that Peter thinks this might just be the best blowjob he has ever received, despite the fact that the kid hasn’t even put him in his mouth yet. 

He seems fascinated with Peters foreskin, bringing a hand up to wrap long fingers around him and tug the skin up and down, tongue sweeping out to lick the flushed head of him every time he pulls down. 

Peters hips are rocking in slow and shallow thrusts, and he can see that Stiles is humping his bed at a similar pace, although he doesn’t think the boy is aware of it, given how focused he is on Peter.

And isn’t that a rush, having such a young and pretty thing devote his attention completely to Peter. He always did like having his ego stroked along with his cock. “Such a good boy for me, Stiles.” He purrs, unable and unwilling to pull the wolf back from flashing his eyes when Stiles whines high and needy, reacting so beautifully to the words. 

He always had a hunch the kid had a praise kink. God knows he doesn’t get enough credit for what he does day to day, and Peter is all too happy to indulge him. “That’s it, sweetheart, take the head into your mouth,” Peter instructs, his voice dropping an octave as Stiles does what he is told. “Good boy.”

The praise makes the boy shudder, eyes fluttering closed as he lets himself stop thinking and just feel. The delicious precome that dribbles from Peters cock is like ambrosia to him, and he sucks and swallows what he can coax out of the wolf, occasionally letting more of the shaft feed into his mouth, drawing pleased groans and more mumbled praise from the older man. 

While his one hand holds Peter steady for him, the other rests on his thick, muscled thigh, and Stiles moves it slowly upward, then trails feather-light touches down to Peters large, swollen balls, caressing them gently and staring up a squeezing motion in time with applying suction to his tip, and Peter pants through his slack mouth, fangs dropping as he loses another small bit of control.

“Fuck, Stiles,” The wolf rasps through his crowded mouth, the fangs giving him a telltale lisp. “You’re gonna make me come, sweetheart.” 

The determined set to his eyebrows brings a flutter of genuine warmth to Peters chest, and he gifts the boy with one of his rare smiles, a small curling of his lips that makes the boys pounding heart skip a bit. 

Stiles pulls off of Peters glorious cock with an exaggerated ‘pop’ and moves to mouth at the base while steadily jacking him off. It’s a picture perfect moment that Peter wants to capture and keep forever, but he feels like a picture couldn’t capture the perfection of the moment, so he opts to keep his eyes glued to the scene in front of him, eyes darting between his mouth and his half lidded gaze, letting the words spill out of his mouth. 

“So good, Stiles, you’re so good with your mouth, and your tongue, wish I could just keep you between my legs all day, ah, have you suckle my cock as I wake up, keep it in your mouth while you kneel under my table while I eat breakfast and read the paper, suck me dry while I do some research or watch the television, ung, you, ah, you would look so pretty for me, keep my cock nice and wet and warm in your mouth, swallowing load after load of my thick cum, hng, bet you wouldn’t even need to eat anything, belly warm and full of me, oh god, fuck, Stiles I’m close,” Peter nearly loses himself in the fantasy, the feedback of Stiles whines and moans at every idea urging him to go on and on. 

With a delicate little kitten lick to his slit, Stiles looks him dead in the eyes before he whispers, “Come for me, alpha.” His voice sounding as wrecked as he looked.

It was more than enough to have Peter howling, hips twitching with each powerful spurt of cum, legs trembling at the intensity. Rope after rope fell on his heaving chest, until Stiles drew him back into the warm cavern of his mouth and started suckling, drawing pulse after pulse of his creamy cum from him, until his balls ached, empty and drained. Were’s came a lot more than humans, but his orgasm felt like it went on forever, definitely the longest Peter has ever had, and the vast quantity of cum he produced was obscene even to him.

Fortunately, Stiles was more than ok with that, drinking the last of him down and cleaning his softening cock of any and all traces of spunk that remained before moving to lick at the cooling stripes of cum that marked his broad chest. 

The influx of a new, bitter scent followed the high pitched whine that broke free of Stiles throat as the younger man rubbed himself against Peters leg while his tongue sought out the last traces of his spend. 

Peter watched in awe as Stiles fell apart in his lap, slumping to lay against him in a quivering, keening heap. Peter was swift to wrap his arms around the boy, pulling him up to tuck his face into the crook of his neck, even though Stiles wasn’t a wolf, he would know the trust such an action would warrant. 

“Such a good boy for me, Stiles.” Peter murmurs into his hair. “I came so much, but you drank all of me down, bet you feel full and sated now, hmm?” He dips a hand to rest over Stiles flat tummy, rubbing in soothing circles that had faint spikes of arousal polluting the air.

“Too soon, you asshole,” Stiles grumbles, trying in vain to squirm away from the painful pleasure of getting hard again so soon. Peter laughs and takes his hand out from under his shirt, and it doesn’t escape Stiles notice that while Peter was buck naked, Stiles was fully clothed, and his underwear were starting to stick to him.

It seemed Peter took notice as well, as the man manuvered him to strip off his shirt and shuck off his pants and underwear, baring his skin for the wolf. He took his time devestign him of clothes, and by the time he was as naked as Peter, his cock was flushed and aching again.

Blue eyes flash at the unmarked expanse of pale, mole-dotted skin. Peter rubs his warm, calloused hands over as much of him as he can reach, wanting to touch all of it, and leaving his scent as much as possible. 

Stiles turns so they are chest to chest, plastering himself to Peters chiseled front and sitting so that the mans large cock is trapped next to Stiles’, both hard and leaking as they rub against each other. 

“God, Peter,” Stiles moans, unable to tear his eyes away from the sight of Peters cock dwarfing his own. The wolf had to be about two inches longer, and substantially thicker, and where some guys may have felt emasculated, Stiles felt only excited, rutting against the older man. 

“Thought about this so much, dreamed about it. About your cock. Fuck, Peter,” Stiles trails off his thoughts with a loud whine when Peters thick fingers begin to rub circles around his nipples. 

“So sensitive, Stiles,” Peter teases lightly, pinching and rubbing the hardened nubs with fascination, watching the younger man fall apart in his lap. “And all mine.” 

Peter closes his eyes at the slip, he didn’t want to let his possessiveness show, didn’t want to scare him off, but his wolf was howling in the back of his mind, urging him to claim, to take, to keep. 

Stiles stopped moving at Peters claim, and the man was sure he just ruined everything. A gentle hand cups his stubbled cheek, and glacial blue eyes meet honey brown ones, filled with a severity that half scares Peter and half turns him on. 

Stiles is total wolf mate material, and Peter is so fucking gone for him, how did he not even realize it until today?

“Given that I started this, I will give you one out.” Stiles voice is quiet, uncharacteristic of the usually rowdy and spastic boy. Peter blinks, not understanding, but Stiles keeps going. “If you are doing this to fuck with me, or just to fuck me, you can leave. We don’t have to talk about it again, and maybe it could happen again in the future, if you play your cards right.”

Fuck, Peter wants to do this every day until the end of time. He is staring up at the boy on his lap with an open expression, allowing the boy to see his emotions as they cross through him, a privilege he hasn’t granted anyone since the fire.

“Although,” The boy continues, just as Peter was going to break down and beg, “I wouldn’t be opposed, per say, to being yours, if that is something you would be interested in?” The confident tone he used up until the last few words faded into a warbling question, and he looked embarrassed and unsure, and so fucking perfect.

“Sweet boy,” Peter croaks out of his own choked throat, “It would bring me no greater pleasure to call you mine, if you would have me.” He lays his own hand over the one pressed to his cheek, and Stiles goes red as a tomato and darts forward to bury his head in Peters chest. 

His muscled arms come to rest around the body in his lap, and Peter can feel Stiles mumbling unintelligible words into the skin of his shoulder. Using a finger to tip his head up, Peter finds that the flush on Stiles face reaches all the way down to his chest, and the scent of content and happy fills the room as they stare at each other like fools. 

“If you are fucking with me, I will not hesitate to kill you. Again.” Stiles threatens, worry lacing his words as Peter continues his silent observation of Stiles blush as it deepens. He takes the hand on his face in his, and laces their fingers together, and Stiles suddenly cant meet his eyes, and Peter is surprised to see that his blush deepened somehow.

He smiles at his boys shyness, delighted to discover every one of Stiles quirks and mannerisms. God, it has barely been an hour and Peter is already turning into a sap. He slowly leans in, until their lips are barely brushing. 

“I am dead serious, Stiles.” He intones, and the giggle that pulls out of him washes over him in a wave of warmth, and he leans in just a little further to kiss his full lips, a smirk curling the edges of his own.

Peter is so caught up in kissing Stiles stupid, that he doesn’t sense the approach of his dear, scowly nephew, who never learned to knock or even use the door, and just slides open Stiles bedroom window, swinging one leg over and already talking before he looks up and takes in the sight before him.

“Hey, Stiles, is Peter still- uh.” He freezes, looking like a deer in the headlights, and Stiles nearly breaks down laughing at the sight. It even pulls an unattractive snort from Peter when Derek takes a breath to say something and chokes on the smell of them that lingers in the air. 

“Bet- hehehe, bet you wont just break into my room now, huh.” Stiles manages, scrambling for a blanket to cover them up with, but not leaving his spot in Peters lap. 

Derek gives him his angriest, most embarrassed glare and pouts a little when all it does is send the boy into hysterics, and his uncle manages to pick up his phone in time to snap a loud picture of Derek pouting at Stiles, who was moving so much that his face is out of focus, but still recognizable as laughing his ass off, leading Derek to be the focus of the shot, his slightly pursed lips and furrowed brow captured in their full glory, his eyes only slightly gleaming.

It was a fantastic picture, and Peter clicks upload as soon as he takes it, sending it to three of his emails before Derek snatches the phone from his hand and crushes it in his grip. 

Peter fakes a frown and an angry snarl at the treatment of his things, but Derek is now sporting a light dusting of pink high on his cheeks and reaching the tips of his ears, and he grins triumphantly at his uncle, thinking that he won this round. 

Stiles hides his smile in Peters neck, having seen the man send the pictures to himself before Derek got to it, and Peter ruts up against him to make him moan and encourage Derek to leave so he could pull it up on Stiles laptop and send it to the pack. 

All it takes is one moan from the younger man and Derek goes ashen white before blushing furiously and booking it, likely to sulk in his loft. 

They spend the evening sharing blackmail photos of the pack, and rubbing against one another, and neither can think of anywhere they would rather be.

**Author's Note:**

> The dubious consent is that Stiles starts getting really close to Peters dick while sleeping with his head on his lap and Peter starts getting hard, but tries to get away from Stiles so he doesnt take advantage but then Stiles wakes up and sucks his dick. They both consented fully, and neither one is pressured into anything. 
> 
> Stay safe and happy everyone!


End file.
